


Long Nights

by zetuslapetus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: Beth and Rio discuss business .. in bed.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 24
Kudos: 457





	Long Nights

**Author's Note:**

> I finished viva voce without giving the people what they wanted (smut) so this is my apology - enjoy!

He wakes slowly, sweaty, and with a soft body pressed flush against his back. Usually, when this happens, its a six-year-old burrowed against him, with tiny knees digging into his lower back. He can feel her hot breath against his neck, steady and slow. She’s warm, and the reason he’s burning up. 

He turns his head, slowly as to not wake her and catches sight of pale skin. He must have thrown the blankets off of them at some point because they’re both uncovered. She’s wearing panties, something thin that doesn’t cover much. He feels his cock stir at the sight. 

He slips his fingers in the crook of her knee and pulls her leg up and over his own. She stirs but doesn’t wake. He squeezes her thigh, runs his fingers across her creamy skin, and marvels at the softness.

They’d undressed each other last night. He remembers trying to stay awake, fighting to keep his eyes open. Then, she’d slid her hand across his neck, pulled him into her warmth, and lulled him to sleep with her mouth.

He can’t see her face, her head is buried in his back but he sees the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’s definitely still asleep. When he squeezes her leg again she mumbles something against his skin. That’s about the moment he realizes he’s never shared a bed with a woman without fucking her before. He pushes that thought away and shuffles his body slowly to face her. 

They’d driven to Toledo and back last night, hunting down a printing press she’d found somewhere on the internet. It was older than the one at the Paper Porcupine and more expensive than his car. 

She’s wearing a flimsy tank that does nothing to cover her chest and he feels himself harden. He’d always enjoyed a nice rack, sure, but he’d always considered himself an ass man. Then he’d met Elizabeth. 

He slips a hand underneath the tank, squeezes her middle softly and her eyes finally flutter open. They’re hazy and unfocused. He slides a strap of the tank down her arm until he reveals a perfect little nub. He smirks, ducks his head down, and wraps his lips around her nipple. 

She moans softly, arches against him and he sucks, hard. It pebbles in his mouth, silky and hard at the same time. He opens wider, takes more of her breast in his mouth. Her lips part and she exhales sharply. Her eyes are cloudy, the usual bright blue of her iris dark.

He suckles at the skin, squeezes what he can’t mouth and rubs himself against her hips. When he releases her nipple, her fingers catch around his neck and she pulls him back with a frown. He chuckles, noses at the underside of her breast and rubs his stubble against the soft skin. She squirms against his face, and he takes the opportunity to slide his knee between her thighs and push into her belly.

She runs her fingers through his short-cropped hair, still staring at him with her mouth open. He can see the tip of that pink tongue in the corner of her mouth. She exhales hard, every breath pushing her chest against him. He noses at the valley between her breast, kisses the skin there. She smells good, faintly of perfume, and sweat. 

He slides the other strap down, and she twists under him, helps him pull the tank to her middle. Heat engulfs him, burning him from the inside out. He’s fully hard and nestled below her belly when he rips his boxers off. She cranes her head to look down.

He pumps his cock, once, then again. When she reaches out to touch him he slaps her hand away. 

He hangs over her, one palm on the bed holding himself up. He strokes himself slowly and watches her squirm underneath him, watches the blush spread from her cheeks to her chest.

His apartment is quiet, it’s still early enough that the morning traffic hasn’t picked up and flooded inside. All he can hear are his own pants. She slides her own panties down, wriggles her bottom until they’re at her knees and he grunts loudly. When she lets her legs fall open he can see how shiny she is, how wet. 

He slides into her slowly, keeps staring at where their bodies join. Elizabeth cants her hips up, rises up on her elbows to get closer to him. When he bottoms out her eyes close and she lets out a shaky breath. He pushes her back, lays her flat on her back, and hikes her leg up. Then he starts pumping into her, slow and desperate. 

“Are we going to buy the printing press?” She whispers and his hips hesitate.

“Jesus,” he grunts into her neck and pulls up to look at her, “Is that what you’re thinking about right now?” 

He thrusts into her a little harder and her laugh turns into a husky moan.

“It’s a good deal,” she huffs.

He pulls her knee up higher and sinks in deeper.

“It’s expensive,” he says and pulls out almost completely before sinking back in. The angle is too much, too tight.

She twists a hand in the sheets and angles her hips up to meet his thrusts.

“It’s worth it,” she moans, “We can print more -  _ faster _ ,” she says and he wonders if she’s talking about the press or him.

He lowers his body on top of her, presses their chests together, and slows down even more.

“We can go half-and-half on it,” she adds.

“Can you afford it?” He asks with a smirk and grinds his hips against her own. 

She can’t and he knows it.

“You’ll cover it and I’ll owe you,” she says and squeezes around him. “Faster.”

He groans and drops his head to her shoulder.

“You got it all figured out, don’t you?” 

He slides a hand to her ass, palms the soft flesh, and drives forwards harder. It pulls the softest mewl out of her and he does it again and again.

“Yes,” she whispers and wraps an arm around his back. 

“Where are we gonna keep it?” He asks into her chest and she smiles. “Hypothetically,” he adds with a grunt.

“I have room at Boland Bubbles,” she says and he lifts his head, looks at her with tight eyes.

She rolls her eyes, lets out a shaky breath when he rises to his knees. He lifts her bottom off the bed, changes the angle and her thighs begin to shake. 

“Nah - I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says with a shake of his head, palms her hips and thrusts up. He slides his thumb over her clit. 

Her eyes snap shut, the tight coil in her belly twists, she’s close and quickly losing the ability to think clearly. 

“Then find me a place,” she moans and he looks up at her, mouth parted, panting hard.

“Yeah?” 

“Y-Yeah, isn’t that what you do here?” She stutters and lets out a soft cry. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah?” he grunts, “Is that all I do?” 

Every time he strokes her clit she squeezes around him and he feels his balls tighten with each pump. She touches herself, pushes her breasts together, and tugs at her nipples softly. The sight almost makes him come then and there. 

“Yeah,” she nods again, “You find me a place, b-buy the press and I’ll print,” she moans and her thighs clench around him. “I’m coming,” she cries and her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her mouth parts but her cries are silent. 

He leans forwards, over her body and presses her knee to her chest. He doesn’t stop pumping into her, chasing his own relief. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chants over her, eyes focused on her hands, and the fingers still wrapped around her breasts. 

He comes, not as quiet as her. He grunts into the quiet room, curses against her skin. 

He lets her knee down, slides off of her after a moment. 

He’s still breathing hard when she turns to face him.

She’s flushed, and sweaty. Pieces of her hair are stuck to her forehead, her cheek. She licks her lips, eyes dropping down to his own briefly before she speaks.

“Do we have a deal?” She asks.

When he turns to look at her she’s smiling, and that’s when he realizes he’s absolutely fucked. He’d just fucked himself out of almost a quarter of a million dollars. He lets his eyes drop down her body, licks his lips and nods. 

“I choose the place,” he says and turns on his side to face her. “You owe me half - with interest,” he says and slides a hand into her hair. She’s damp, the sweat slowly cooling. 

“That’s not what - “ she opens her mouth to protest and he takes that opportunity to slide his mouth across hers and lick into her mouth. 

She kisses back, hard, and slides her hand around his neck. She arches into him, presses her chest against his and he pulls back before she can cloud his mind any more. 

“Call them, we’ll pay cash,” he says against her lips.

_ We _ .

The word isn’t lost on him - or her. She smiles against his mouth and pulls away. He drops back against the pillows when she gets out of bed to grab her purse. She pulls her phone out and dials. 

He watches her, perched on the edge of his bed, still naked. She’s got her bare back to him, and his hand twitches to reach out and touch. To run his fingers down the column of her spine. 

The person on the other line must pick up because she’s talking, and exchanging pleasantries. Then she’s arranging a pick-up time, voice confident - excited, and he feels his cock stir all over again.

He slips out of bed before he can hear any more before he’s too hard to think again and slips into the bathroom. She’s still talking when he closes the door and turns the shower on.


End file.
